


Seventeen Days After Valentine's Day

by sarkymoocow (parenthetical)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Drabble Sequence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-03
Updated: 2005-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parenthetical/pseuds/sarkymoocow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no such thing as a 'happily ever after'. There's just 'after'. What you make of it is up to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seventeen Days After Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble sequence written for the lovely mary_re.

_ Valentine's Day _

The problem with Valentine's Day is that there is no such thing as a "happily ever after".

That's simply not how life works. Least of all on Valentine's Day, the day when normally non-masochistic people open themselves up to rejection, humiliation and disappointment.

Even if by some chance the day itself does go smoothly, life doesn't end where the stories do, with the sunset fading to black and a "happily ever after". You still have to face the next day. And at times the "after" is happy, at times sad. But at least it's real. Unlike "happily ever after".

*

There's no need to tell the Valentine's Day story, because deep down, you already know it. Ultimately, they're always the same.

Perhaps Harry works up the courage to send Draco a card. Perhaps Draco grabs Harry after Quidditch practice. Depending on the amount of alcohol consumed ~~by the author~~, perhaps one serenades the other during dinner.

Or perhaps it's less dramatic. Perhaps, after months of war, exhaustion and despair, two people tire of exchanging meaningful glances and finally confess certain secrets.

Regardless, the result is identical. Cue sunset and fade to black.

No. The real story is always the "after".

~*~

_ Day One _

The candle flickers.

Harry looks up from his book and rubs his eyes wearily. He's spent too many nights in this library, poring over books in the hope of finding a way to end this war. While still a pupil here, he avoided this library whenever possible. Now he spends more time here than in his room.

Sometimes it's hard to remember that it is less than a year since he finished seventh year, less than a year since Hogwarts closed its gates to pupils and became the Order's base.

The candle flickers again as Draco sits down beside him.

*

Although Harry seems tired, Draco thinks he is pleased to see him. There is less awkwardness than Draco had feared, after yesterday's confessions.

"Hi," Harry says finally, smiling just a little.

Draco smiles back, and they talk about safe topics, like the war and the end of the world. Neither mentions what was said the previous day.

But their eyes meet more than usual, and they smile more, too.

"You need sleep," Draco says finally. Normally Harry would protest, but Draco stands and holds out a hand to pull him up, and Harry doesn't.

The candle flickers and goes out.

~*~

_ Day Two _

It's difficult to find time to be alone together. Harry's days are crowded with training sessions, Order meetings, far-too-frequent battles in the war against Voldemort, and research into ways to kill him. There is a reason it has taken so long for Draco and him to get even this far.

Harry spends a great deal of the day glancing over at Draco, who is usually at the other side of the room. If anyone comments on his distraction, he is too distracted to notice.

Reassuringly, Draco seems to be spending just as much time glancing across at him.

*

Eventually, Draco becomes so irritated - surely the _point_ of admitting things on Valentine's Day was that they wouldn't have to settle for meaningful glances anymore - that he pulls Harry into an empty room before dinner.

Harry looks amusingly taken aback. Draco's smug grin fades, however, as he realises he has no ready excuse.

"...Draco?" Harry asks. "What... oh." He seems pleased by whatever he sees in Draco's face, and slowly smiles.

Reassured, Draco moves closer. "Just... thought I'd check whether you're planning to research tonight."

Harry's grin widens. "Yes, actually. Care to join me?"

They are very late to dinner.

~*~

_ Day Three _

Their lips brush together awkwardly, uncertain and tentative. This thing between them is still so new, so raw, that Harry is half-afraid that it will fall to pieces and shatter each time they take a hesitant step forwards.

And this is no mere step. It's a leap, plummeting off the edge of a cliff, dizzily waiting to discover whether he will be caught.

Draco's lips are warm against his, and when Draco's breathing hitches Harry forgets to be afraid, forgets about the risks they're taking. Forgets everything but this moment, and presses forwards, all hesitancy gone, replaced by fierceness...

*

...and Draco is lost, responding just as urgently. Harry's lips are chapped, no doubt because of the chilly February air and too much time spent biting his lips while researching.

Their kiss is no longer tentative, and is growing more certain with each passing moment. But Draco is still terrified, even as he shifts closer and raises a trembling hand to touch Harry's face. Part of him is screaming that he should pull away, run while he still can, and spend the rest of his life avoiding Harry.

The rest of him knows that it is already far too late.

~*~

_ Day Four _

Harry is smiling.

It's been too long, Hermione thinks dazedly, since she last saw him smile. _Really_ smile, not just a twisted attempt in order to reassure her. There has been little reason to smile recently. Between the nightmares, the fighting, the death and destruction... it has now reached the point where she is surprised, almost shocked, to see him do so.

Shocked. But glad.

At least until she follows his gaze and realises that he is smiling at Draco Malfoy, seated across the Great Hall.

Her own smile fades, then vanishes entirely as Malfoy returns his smile.

_Oh, Harry_.

*

Pansy ignores everyone in the Great Hall during breakfast. She may fight with the Order now, but she doesn't have to like them. They share a common aim, but little else.

Draco is another matter. Draco is part of "us", not "them".

He seems distracted, she realises, studying him from the corner of her eye. But not depressed. He's smiling faintly.

She looks up to see Potter smiling back. And Granger's horrified expression, quickly masked.

..._Oh_.

"You'll be careful," she states softly. She doesn't need to elaborate.

Draco glances at her and looks down, face unreadable. "As careful as possible."

~*~

_ Day Five _

Pansy's wand digs sharply into Harry's throat, but her eyes are sharper still. Harry remains silent, not quite daring to move or breathe.

"I know," she says simply. "And if you hurt him, I will kill you, Potter. Do you believe me?"

Harry does. He's seen her kill before, and the expression in her eyes at this moment... Draco is all that remains of her old life, her old self. He does not doubt she would kill to protect him.

He knows the understanding shows in his eyes, but she does not remove her wand until he answers aloud.

"Yes."

*

Draco is scanning the bookshelves in a deserted corner of the library when the wand presses into his back. He grows still, and carefully does not turn.

"I still don't trust you, Malfoy." Granger's voice is soft, almost musing. "Certainly not with Harry."

Draco remains silent.

"Not about to argue?"

Draco stares at the books. "Would there be any point?"

The wand digs deeper. "Give me one reason I shouldn't try to stop this, Malfoy."

"Because it's his choice, Granger, not yours," Draco responds quietly, but firmly.

Silence, and the wand is gone.

He turns, then, but so is she.

~*~

_ Day Six _

Harry is suspicious when Draco is assigned as his partner for the day's training session, but it's impossible to be certain why Dumbledore's eyes are twinkling this time. Harry decides to simply make the most of it.

"Just like old times," Draco mutters, heading for their corner of the room.

Harry follows. "Almost."

Draco smiles.

They don't hold back as they duel. Not because they fear the conclusions others might draw, but because they know their survival may later hinge on this training.

Harry can't quite hide his horror, however, when his curse leaves a gaping cut across Draco's cheek.

*

Late that night, alone in the library, Draco allows Harry to trace the faint line with a finger. The cut was easily healed; this mark will be gone by tomorrow.

Harry's hand shakes as he touches Draco's face.

"See?" Draco says finally. "It's fine."

Harry nods, his expression still clouded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's fine," Draco repeats. He tries a joke. "Don't worry, I won't let Pansy kill you."

Harry smiles suddenly. "Thank you," he murmurs. He kisses his way along the mark and down to Draco's mouth.

The topic of conversation is soon forgotten.

~*~

_ Day Seven _

The village is bathed in green light. Harry doesn't even know its name, the alarm came so suddenly. He moves from shadow to shadow, fighting Death Eater after Death Eater. He has lost track of Draco and his friends.

Pale hair catches his eye, and he whips around to face Lucius Malfoy.

Harry fights, because there's no choice. Because that face, despite the terrible resemblance, is who Draco is _not_.

He stumbles, pain deadening his arm, and Malfoy's eyes are triumphant as his lips move.

Harry is faster.

_Avada Kedavra_.

Then he looks up, slowly, to meet Draco's shocked gaze.

*

Lucius Malfoy hadn't always agreed with his son's choices in life, particularly once Draco had begun to re-evaluate his loyalties after his mother's death. Their relationship, once affectionate, albeit tense, had dissolved into bitter recriminations. Many harsh words had been exchanged before Draco had moved to the Order's base at Hogwarts, and Lucius had cut off all contact.

But Lucius was still his father, just as Draco would always remain a Malfoy.

Draco kneels beside the body, oblivious to the fighting still going on around him.

It is not until hours later that Pansy succeeds in coaxing him away.

~*~

_ Day Eight _

Harry sits in the library and stares blankly at the book in front of him.

There are footsteps behind him, and he turns sharply, knowing full well it won't be Draco, but unable not to look.

Hermione manages a smile for him, but her eyes are knowing - and more sympathetic than he had expected.

Harry sighs, and buries his face in his hands.

"You did the right thing, Harry," Hermione whispers, reaching out to touch his hair gently.

"No, I did what was necessary," Harry flatly corrects her. The distinction is important.

They sit together silently for a long time.

*

Pansy refuses to leave his side. Draco hasn't actually asked her to do so, and she hasn't wasted her breath saying it - hasn't said anything, in fact. She simply sits beside him on the cold dungeon floor, silent, holding his hand far too tightly - comforting, not comfortable. He wonders if she is remembering the night the Dark Lord killed her parents, when their roles were reversed.

Both of them orphaned, now. Like Harry himself. Like so many others.

Eventually, Draco rests his head on her shoulder and closes his eyes.

Green dances behind his eyelids. Green light, and green eyes.

~*~

_ Day Nine _

Harry walks out of the changing rooms, broom in hand, and stops abruptly.

High above, a figure is flying. Too high for Harry to make out many details, but he knows it's Draco. They've flown against each other often enough. They've never flown together, though.

His fingers tighten on the broom Sirius sent him, years ago, and he lowers his head, reliving the pain of that loss. And yet again, in his mind, he sees Lucius Malfoy - no, Draco's father - fall before his wand.

Harry swallows hard. One day, he hopes, he and Draco will fly together.

But not today.

*

Draco is flying.

His father bought him this broom, years ago. He'd been proud of Draco for being accepted onto the Quidditch team. And later, so disappointed by his son's failures. And by his choices.

Lucius might not have been satisfied with Draco's flying - indeed, with Draco himself, in many respects - but nonetheless, Draco has always loved flying. Loved the speed, watching the world fall away... The air offers him both an escape and a refuge.

But his father bought him this broom.

No matter how fast and how far he flies, there are some things which cannot be outflown.

~*~

_ Day Ten _

The alert comes just before midnight, and Harry feels the blood drain from his face at the thought of going out and fighting again. Killing again.

Ron and Hermione both look as though they want to reassure him, to tell him he can stay behind, that he doesn't need to fight this time. They don't, however. They all know it would be a lie.

His eyes widen when he enters the Great Hall and sees Draco with the rest of the Order. He is pale, and standing very close to Pansy. But he's there.

He won't meet Harry's eyes, though.

*

Time stops for no one, and this war most certainly does not. Not for Lucius, not for Draco, not even for Harry.

When the alarm is given, Pansy does not try to talk Draco out of going - she understands his need to do so all too well. She simply leans close and whispers warningly in his ear _exactly_ what she will do to him if he doesn't look after himself properly, out there.

Draco doesn't reply.

As the Order assembles, he can feel Harry's eyes on him.

Draco doesn't look up.

The Portkeys whip them away, out into the darkness.

~*~

_ Day Eleven _

Harry fights wearily, doggedly. He is not at his best, and knows it.

The Death Eater he is struggling with stumbles to the ground, caught off-guard by a curse. Harry raises his wand again, the Killing Curse on his lips...

And hesitates, remembering the expression on Draco's face. _Someone's father_...

He casts a Stunning Spell instead, and turns away as the Death Eater crumbles to the ground.

Then he glimpses movement from the corner of his eye, and instinct makes him spin back.

The Death Eater is on his feet again, wand raised.

Harry has no time to react.

*

Draco stares, frozen, at the wand the Death Eater is pointing at Harry. There is a moment of blind panic in which Draco cannot move, cannot do anything. Harry's eyes shift from the wand to meet his horrified gaze, filled with too many emotions for Draco to read, and time seems to hesitate -

_NO_

\- and then speeds back up as the Death Eater collapses to the ground in a flash of green light.

Draco cannot look away from Harry's wide, shaken eyes, not even to see who cast the curse. They simply stare at each other, shocked and motionless.

_Harry_.

~*~

_ Day Twelve _

Harry is working in the library again. Although he's trying to concentrate on his research, much of the evening has been spent wondering whether Draco can ever forgive him. And replaying Draco's expression when Harry had almost died.

He'd been left with no choice but to kill Lucius Malfoy. Somehow, though, that seems like a terribly hollow excuse for killing _anyone's_ father.

Harry rubs his scar wearily. _Research. Find a way to finish this bloody war and put an end to all this killing_.

He manages to concentrate for all of ten minutes, and then Draco sits down beside him.

*

"I'm sorr-"

Draco cuts him off, pressing a finger to Harry's lips and shaking his head. He isn't ready to talk about it. And he doesn't want Harry to offer an apology which he can't fully mean and which Draco can't fully accept.

Draco understands why it happened. Understanding doesn't take away the pain, though, that's all.

But the other night's frozen moment of fear is still vivid in his mind. They can't afford to waste more time.

He shifts closer, sliding his arms around Harry's neck. Harry sighs and leans into him.

They hold onto each other, tightly, silently.

~*~

_ Day Thirteen _

Harry stares across the ruined church.

He doesn't know why Voldemort chose to attack the service here. Perhaps it was attended by Muggle-borns. Perhaps he simply wanted to kill lots of Muggles. Whatever the motive, the devastation is senseless.

Hundreds died here; now the survivors' memories are being altered, magic invading their minds to remove their loved ones' last moments. Harry knows it's necessary, but that doesn't make it _right_. Much as his last memory of Sirius hurts, he would kill anyone who tried to take it from him.

He leans against a wall and watches the Aurors work.

*

Draco stands near the door and watches Harry. The church is slowly emptying, as Order members return to Hogwarts and Aurors take survivors away to Muggle hospitals.

Pansy touches his arm. "You coming?"

"You go ahead," Draco answers, looking back towards Harry. Before he quite realises what he's doing, he's making his way across the church.

Harry looks up as Draco approaches, and releases a shaky breath.

Draco doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing. Standing together openly like this is risky, but right now that seems unimportant. He takes Harry's hand.

Harry's fingers are cold against his.

~*~

_ Day Fourteen _

Fingers are soothing gently through his hair.

Harry opens his eyes and raises his head, mumbling an indistinct query.

"You've been sleeping in the library," Draco informs him. "It's almost midnight, Harry. You should go to bed. That book doesn't look the most comfortable of pillows."

Harry sighs, sitting up properly. "Midnight? Damn." He looks across at Draco. "And hi, by the way."

Draco smiles at him. "Hi. Any particular reason you dozed off in here? Admittedly, that doesn't look like the most fascinating of books."

Harry glances away awkwardly. "No, I'm fine. Just... didn't sleep too well last night."

*

Draco watches him, trying to hide his concern. In the months that he's been coming here to research with Harry, Draco has never arrived to find him sleeping before.

"Bad dreams?" he asks. Draco's own nightmares are bad enough, these days. He can't imagine how terrible Harry's must be, given his link to Voldemort.

"Yes," Harry admits softly, without looking up. "But not... I'm okay. Just tired."

Draco remembers Harry's expression in the ruined church, and doesn't press further. Instead he takes Harry's hand, like he did yesterday.

Unlike yesterday, it's warm, and when Harry finally looks up, he's smiling.

~*~

_ Day Fifteen _

It's Ron's birthday. At all such celebrations, these days, the good cheer feels slightly desperate. Harry feels somewhat guilty about slipping away. But he's barely seen Draco all day, and being with him is a better way to feel alive.

The library is empty, and he heads towards the dungeons. The castle is no longer a school, so they are not, technically, Slytherin territory. And thus there is nothing to stop him from slipping quietly into Draco's room when his quiet knock goes unanswered.

Draco is sleeping. Harry carefully settles down beside him, and reaches out to touch his hair.

*

_Green light._

_Lucius glares at him contemptuously as Draco casts the Killing Curse. Even in death, his father's gaze is cutting._

_Harry looks painfully unsurprised when Draco turns on him. He opens his mouth to speak, but Draco curses him, and he collapses._

"Draco..."

Fingers running through his hair, _and Harry's eyes are blank and lifeless, accusingly green_...

"Draco, you're dreaming." The bed - yes, bed, Draco thinks muzzily, the dream's green light dimming - shifts as Harry lies down and cautiously slides arms around him. Draco is too tired for hesitancy, and pulls him close.

He sleeps again, and doesn't dream.

~*~

_ Day Sixteen _

Harry slowly cracks open his eyes, and is caught momentarily off-guard to find himself in Draco's bed. In Draco's arms.

Then he relaxes again, listening to the soothing sound of Draco's breathing. It's... reassuring. He could get used to this.

Draco murmurs something indistinctly against his neck and opens his eyes. Harry is oddly glad to see the same surprise flash in Draco's eyes before it gives way to a pleased warmth.

"Morning," Harry murmurs, not quite daring to break the hush.

"Mmmmm," Draco agrees sleepily, and kisses him.

Yes, Harry thinks, he could definitely get used to this.

*

The haze of sleep and _mmmmm, Harry_ abates slightly, and Draco pulls back to meet Harry's eyes.

They smile at each other. One of Harry's hands traces circles against Draco's back. Draco's arms are twined around Harry's neck. This is, Draco suspects, an addictive way to wake up.

"You'll have been missed," he states finally.

Harry sighs, hiding his face against Draco's neck. His voice is muffled. "Probably."

Silence. Draco twists his fingers in Harry's hair.

"I... I'll lie about where I've been, if you want," Harry offers.

Draco tugs on his hair, forcing Harry to meet his eyes.

"No."

~*~

_ Day Seventeen _

Harry and Draco know they are going to be late to breakfast again. Following yesterday's events, there may be an unpleasant scene. The truth is often harder to live with than a lie.

All the more reason to stay exactly where they are, Harry thinks, and realises he must have spoken aloud as Draco sleepily murmurs agreement and tightens his grasp around Harry's neck.

Harry kisses the corner of Draco's mouth, and allows his eyes to slide shut. Later, they will get up and face the world. But for now, they have this moment together.

They drift back to sleep.

*

There's no such thing as a "happily ever after". Finding love never guarantees eternal happiness. There's just "after". What you make of it is up to you.

Perhaps Harry and Draco are happy until Draco is killed by his Aunt Bellatrix. Perhaps they argue, and Draco regrets it when Voldemort finally destroys Harry.

Or perhaps they just take each day as it comes, glad even to have an "after" in a world where so few live to do so.

It's not the perfect lie of "happily ever after".

But it's real. And that counts for more than any pretty lie.


End file.
